All to Myself
by aedy
Summary: One is running towards love and the other is running away from love.


**Title**: All to Myself  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Puck/Kurt  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: Un-beta  
><strong>Genre<strong>: Romance, Friendship  
><strong>Notes<strong>: I wrote this in January for a prompt, but I never posted it because it's not really what the prompter wanted, I asked if it was OK to post it but I never got a reply from the prompter so I just decided to never post this. Now I've changed my mind and I hope you will like it! It's just a little fluffy oneshot.  
><strong>Words Count<strong>: 1436  
><strong>Summary<strong>: _One is running towards love and the other is running away from love._

_I'm under the gun,_  
><em>you're like the only one<em>  
><em> I just can't decide <em>  
><em>what I'm running from <em>

Somehow, it had become a routine. Kurt was twenty-six and desperately trying to find someone to love and that would love him back. He would go on websites for online dating or let his friends introduce other singles to him, then, almost every night, he'd go on a date with someone, always the same little Italian restaurant, never the same man twice. Since it never worked, after every boring dinner, he'd come up with a stupid excuse, ditch the man he had gone out with and head over to the closest bar to his house. Every night he'd sit at the counter and order a cocktail and chat with the bartender.

The bartender at Illusions was Noah "Puck" Puckerman. He was twenty-six and single just like Kurt, however just as much as Kurt ran towards love, Puck ran away from it.

Every night was the same old story. Kurt went on his date, then went to Illusions, Puck would be waiting for him with a smile and ready to mix drinks for Kurt, then, around three in the morning, when the bar finally closed, they would leave together and Puck would walk Kurt home even though he lived in the opposite direction.

It had all started a year before when Kurt had walked in the bar after the hundredth shitty date and Puck had told him that love wasn't worth it. Kurt had started to slowly develop a crush on the bartender but, valuing their friendship and knowing that all Puck was willing to offer was sex and not love, Kurt had never said a word about his feelings.

That night, was just like the others. Kurt had gone on a date with a guy from work but the conversation had been lousy and half way through dinner, Kurt had lost all his interest in the man sitting in front of him.

When he sat down at his usual seat at the counter, Puck looked at him with a small smile.

"What did the guy do this time? Didn't like "Rent"? Couldn't sing? Bit his nails? Tried to pay for dinner?" When Kurt glared at him, Puck laughed. He started mixing Kurt his White Russian and waited for him to tell him about the new date.

"He was boring." Kurt nodded his thanks to Puck when he handed the cocktail to him.

"Why don't you just give up?"

Kurt rolled his eyes at the old argument. "I'm not going to stop until I find someone."

Puck sighed before starting to tend to the other customers. Kurt spent what was left of Puck's shift sitting at the counter talking with Puck between orders. When 3am rolled around, Puck closed the bar and they left together.

While they were walking side by side in a comfortable silence, Kurt thought to ask why Puck walked him home even though he lived on the opposite side of the city but he stopped himself for fear of Puck stopping doing it.

When they reached Kurt's apartment, he looked at Puck and asked, "Is something wrong? You've been quiet tonight."

"I was just thinking about something." He shrugged and shook his head. "Never mind. So, I'll see you tomorrow?"

Kurt nodded. They stood staring at each other for a few minutes before Puck shook his head again and took a step back.

"Good night, Kurt."

"Night, Noah."

Kurt saw something into Puck's eyes while Puck took another step back before finally turning around and leave. And that something, whatever it was, made the knots that formed in his stomach whenever he was close to Puck tighten.

Much like Puck had done, Kurt shook his head trying to clear his mind and then walked inside his condo.

* * *

><p>The next night, Kurt's date was Bret Johnson. Bret worked for the Human Resources of a company Kurt had never heard about and was a close friend of Millicent, Kurt's secretary.<p>

Despite how boring his job description was, Brett was funny and made Kurt laugh a few times during dinner. So, when they left the restaurant, Kurt asked Brett if he'd like to have a drink together, and so they went to Illusions.

When Puck raised his eyes from the drink he was mixing and saw Kurt, he smiled but the smile quickly faded away when he spotted the blond walking next to him.

In the year they had known each other, Kurt had never took a date to the bar and a sudden fear he wasn't ready to acknowledge assaulted him. The shaker slipped from his hands but he ignored the customer's protests. By the time Kurt took his usual sit at the counter, Puck was openly seething.

Kurt smiled at him and, gesturing to the guy next to him, said, "Noah, this is Bret. Bret, this is my good friend Noah."

Bret extended a hand toward Puck, but the bartender looked between him and Kurt and his frowns deepened. Turning to Kurt, he asked, "Since when do you take one of your dates here?"

Bret was confused at the rage he could hear in Noah's voice. Then, he registered what the bartender had just said. "One of your dates?"

Alarmed, Kurt turned away from Noah and looked at his date. "I..."

"Millicent told me that you were someone reliable, not someone that dated a different person every night."

"If he stopped meeting losers like you, then he wouldn't have to date someone different every time," Puck cut in before Kurt could answer Bret.

"I've got to go." Bret looked at Kurt one last time before walking out of the bar.

Puck was feeling quite satisfied that the loser had left, but when he looked at Kurt and saw him scowling at him, his smile faced away quickly.

"Don't look so smug, dumbass." Kurt's voice sounded bored and resigned more than angry.

Puck furrowed his brow in confusion. "Why aren't you angry?"

Kurt shrugged. "I took him here because he was funny during dinner, but he practically just called me a slut so..." he trailed off and sighed heavily. "Can I have my drink now?"

Nodding, Puck quickly prepared a White Russian for Kurt and when he handed it over, he let his fingers brush against Kurt's.

Looking down in his drink, Kurt said, "You sounded jealous."

For a few moments Puck didn't answer, but then he said, "I was just surprised that you brought one of your dates here, that's all."

Kurt looked up from his glass and looked right into Puck's eyes. "Why do you walk me home every night when you live on the opposite side of town? And don't tell me it's just because it's dangerous walking alone at three in the morning."

Unable to hold Kurt's gaze, Puck looked away but didn't answer. Kurt shook his head, downed his drink and then said, "I think, I'm you're exception."

Puck looked at him sharply. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Getting up from his stool, Kurt said, "Let Timothy do your orders and come with me in the office." Then, without waiting for an answer, he walked to the back office.

A few minutes later, when Noah finally arrived in the back office, Kurt locked the door and walked up to him. Sliding his arms around Puck's neck, Kurt repeated, "I'm your exception." It was barely a whisper and Kurt felt hands gripping his hips tightly.

Kurt leaned in closer. "I'm your exception, Noah." He thought that Puck was going to pin him to the wall and devour his mouth, but when after a few moments of silence Noah let Kurt's hips go so he could gently cup his face and brought their lips together, the kiss was slow and sweet. Sex was not even in Puck's mind while he let his lips move softly against Kurt's.

When Kurt then tried to deepen the kiss elated at the thought of finally having the boy he loved kissing him, Puck pulled back and leaned his forehead against Kurt's. Quietly, he whispered, "You're my exception."

**The End **


End file.
